


Don't Be Dead - Sebastian Moran

by TimeladyofShalott



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: BBC Sherlock - Freeform, Gen, His Last Vow, Moriarty Lives, Moriarty is Alive, Sherlock - Freeform, sebastian moran - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 13:12:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1133060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimeladyofShalott/pseuds/TimeladyofShalott
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is my first time 1) Writing any form of fanfiction 2) using AO3 so forgive me if i've spoofed up any of the tagging etc. This is a short Sherlock drabble based off the series three episode His Last Vow but is set chronologically around the time of The Empty Hearse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Be Dead - Sebastian Moran

A man stands in Parliament Square, coat turned up against the wind.He stares up at Big Ben and, like he does every day, he remembers him.

Their schedules would never sync. When Seb was in London, Jim was in Japan and when Seb was in Japan, Jim was in a mental institution. Seb laughs and watches as air billows out of his nose like smoke. Children run past, blurs of colour in their puffy winter coats. This November is cold. Women with prams walk fast to catch up to their restless kids, they don’t interest Seb.

“Did you hear that detective fellas back?” One of them asks.

Oh, but that does. Seb breathes heavy, air billowing out of his nose faster now. He doesn’t take time to notice this. He stays paralysed in that moment. He grits his teeth and suppresses a shiver of rage. He looks up at the clock again, craning his head a little higher. He looks around now and thinks about this city, London. It was his city. He thinks about what they’ve just gotten back and about what they’ve got yet to come. He thinks about all the times he stood here and wished for Moriarty not to be dead. But he is.

Seb smiles. He takes his iPod out of the pockets of his coat and places in the ear phones.

_Don’t worry, Boss. They’re going to miss you like I miss you_.

He hits play and begins to walk away to the beat of the music. _Ah-ah-ah-ah stayin’ alive._


End file.
